


florets

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Death, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: She sighed. “My darling, when the child was born, his thread was short, and it was mine. It is time to be cut.”





	florets

**Author's Note:**

> -this is my 300th work on ao3  
> -this is also the worst thing i've ever done

_ oh, you wake up, in a dream, dream, dream   
where the air is soft to breathe, breathe, breathe _

 

* * *

 

When she came to him and she whispered a name into his ear, Kravitz felt himself  _ choke. _ Her hands grazed his shoulders, touched the bare bones of his neck and tried to comfort -- but he drew away.

“My child--”

“He’s a  _ boy _ . He’s  _ theirs. _ You can’t...you can’t take this from them.”

“It has been sewn into the fabric of fate for centuries, my love. I cannot undo this.”

“You  _ can _ ,” he said. “You absolutely  _ can _ .”

“Do not argue destiny.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“ _ Kravitz. _ ” Her tone went colder than usual. “You will complete this task--”

“I won’t.”

It was the first time he’d refused one of her orders. The words fell between them, and she turned her back on him.

“Fine,” she said. “When the time comes, I will reap the boy myself.”

Kravitz balked. “ _ You _ \--”

“Your entire being and purpose is because of me,” she said calmly. “You are allowed to  _ exist _ because of me. You will live  _ forever _ because of me--”

“Angus is a  _ child _ .”

She turned to him. “I cannot affect fate, that is not my responsibility.”

“So you’ll blindly take his life--”

“I took your life with just as much knowledge. Just because it seems unjust to you, because you formed an  _ attachment _ \--”

“So you’ll punish me for it, then?”

She sighed and reached out, thin fingers lifting his chin and gaze to meet hers. “My darling. This is not your punishment for loving. I am beyond thrilled for you. But when the child was born, his thread was short, and it was mine. It is time to be cut.”

 

* * *

 

Magnus was worried. It gripped him like a vise, crushed his lungs and threatened to pull him under.

“Did you make the tea?” Taako asked.

“It hasn’t helped.” Magnus pressed a wet cloth to Angus’s forehead. “Nothing is helping.”

Taako reached out, carded his fingers through Angus’s damp curls. “What the hell is it?” he murmured.

Magnus looked toward him. “I don’t know.” 

Taako nodded and turned away. Magnus knew he’d been searching through his books, his salient knowledge, pestering Kravitz -- up until a few days ago, when Kravitz suddenly seemed to drop off the material plane. 

Merle called it a fever, but couldn’t find the source of infection. “A weak heart,” he’d offered up, but that didn’t sound right to Magnus.

_ His boy _ didn’t have a weak heart. There was nothing weak about Angus at all. 

Magnus went downstairs and made another cup of tea. He felt something cold pass him by, like it was trying to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he said without thinking, “Lup?”

But she wasn’t there. 

Magnus shook his head and carried the mug back upstairs and took his place at Angus’s bedside.

“Hey, bud.”

Angus shivered under his touch and opened his eyes. “Hey.”

“Feelin’ okay this morning?”

“A little.” He tried to sit up, but Magnus kept a hand on his shoulder. “I should walk--”

“No, you stay put.” 

From the corner of the room, Taako eased himself out of a chair and came over, resting the back of his hand on Angus’s forehead. “You didn’t tell me you were a pyromancer, punk.”

“Is it bad?”

“It’s going down,” Magnus said. It was easier to lie. 

Angus nodded. “Okay.” He moved a hand toward the mug. “I’ll have some.”

“Sure, sure.” Magnus helped him take a few sips. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Angus smiled. “Better.”

 

* * *

 

Whatever stepped into his room that night was cold. Angus felt a sort of relief -- everything about him was burning, and he ached for the soothing touch of these hands that reached out to clasp his face and turn his gaze upward.

_ Forgive me _ , a woman said. 

“For what?”

_ For what I am about to do. _

Angus opened his mouth to speak, but he felt something like a chord that was too taught being cut down the middle, and suddenly he was gasping for air, reaching for that voice, grasping her arms as she held them out to catch his soul. 

And then -- 

There was silence.

Angus felt better, now. He could breathe. His skin was cool. 

His mind was clear.

And he saw stars. Literal stars. They stretched out above him as far as he could see, and they were brilliant and rested in pools of other stars, melting into one another and embracing the arms of sister galaxies and mother suns. He felt connected to them, he felt like one of them. The cold arms that held him before felt warm, now. Heavier. 

“Magnus?”

But --  _ no. _ A towering woman helped Angus to stand. She had a calm, pale face that looked like a  _ hundred _ faces, with feathers that fell down to her shoulders, and became a winding, endless cloak and dress.

Her hand circled his wrist, tugging him gently along. He wasn’t quite sure what sort of path they walked, he only knew that he was barely walking at all. It was more...like  _ floating _ , the tips of his toes skimming what felt like a river, but was solid somehow, too. 

Angus realized that’s how  _ he _ felt as well. Like he was solid in this woman’s grasp, but also in danger of flowing away. Perhaps this was what she meant by the veil, and his transition. 

He considered these words.

And then he considered the possibilities they implied.

“ _ No. _ ” Angus tried to wrench his arm from her grasp, but her hand was no longer a gentle thing -- it held on like a chain, and the harder Angus pulled, the tighter it became. “No,” he said, “ _ No,  _ I can’t go,  _ I can’t leave _ \--”

She didn’t answer. Instead she pulled him further along, following the winding river-road that was taking him further and further away.

Angus could only think of one other way to escape. He opened his mouth, and he screamed as loud as he could -- “ _ Magnus! _ ”

The woman stopped. She was looming, now, her feathers forming a crown and a thousand blades. The stars were dripping down, the path was becoming frozen -- they were approaching the veil.

“Your father cannot hear you from this place. You will see him again, in time. If you continue to fight me, I will leave you here, and your destiny will remain a black spot, and the thread will remain attached. You will be miserable. You will be haunted. You will not see him, or any of them, so long as you choose to live in this place.

“It is worse than being dead, Angus. That I can promise you.”

Angus wanted to cry. But he had no heartbeat, and he had no voice, now. He felt his arm go limp in her grasp. Her feathers settled and she gave him a smile that was not unkind, but did not inspire comfort, either.

“Don’t fret, my love. It will be over soon.”

 

* * *

 

From his place in the astral plane, Kravitz was beating his his fists against the wall.

“ _ You. Let. Me. Out! _ ” he bellowed. There was no answer. She had been quite serious when she said she would reap the boy herself. It could not fall to Lup or Barry, who were nowhere near this plane currently. It would be a terrible thing to learn when they returned, and Kravitz wasn’t even allowed to warn them.

He wasn’t allowed to warn anyone.

_ Please _ , he begged, trying to reach her.  _ Please let me,  _ **_please_ ** \-- 

The wall around him rippled and shattered into pieces at his feet. 

“No.”

If it was gone, it meant she had either changed her mind -- which she never did -- or she had returned, something she could be relied upon to do. Kravitz watched in abject horror as she stepped through the veil and onto the astral plane -- Angus McDonald in tow. 

As soon as he saw him, Angus tried to reach out. “Kravitz! Kravitz, I--”

“We are not finished yet,” she said quietly. “Kravitz, you know what must be done.”

“It isn’t too late, you can  _ send him back _ \--”

“The thread is cut. The deed is done,” she intoned. 

Kravitz wanted so much to be  _ angry. _ He wanted to burn things, turn them upside down, grab her and shake her and  _ make her understand _ \-- 

Angus had lost so much.

He had  _ become _ so much. 

Who were they to decide his thread was short, and it was black, and it was time to be cut?

But he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t fight her.

The Raven Queen’s will could not be defied. Fate could not be argued. 

Destiny could not go unfulfilled.

 

* * *

 

Angus grieved silently, wondering if Magnus had found him, if Taako was there, if Lucretia would know what to do.

“Did I....did I do something... _ wrong? _ ” he asked.

“What?” She seemed appalled. “Of course not.” She pulled out a chair for him to sit in.

They had crossed over and were in a large room. A marble spindle sat in the center of it. The walls were covered in shelves, stocked with books in languages Angus could not even fathom. He sat at a very beautiful table. The goddess of death set a cup of tea in front of him.

“A formality,” she said soothingly, and stroked his hair. 

Angus sipped on it. “When will I see Magnus?” he asked.

“Soon.”

“Does he know?”

“Not quite. When it’s morning,” she said. 

“Will he...will he hurt?”

The Raven Queen sighed. “I suspect it will be painful for him. To lose the people you love is terrible. To lose a child is...a pain I do not wish to inflict on anyone. But I cannot help what must be done.”

Angus nodded. Then: “It was always supposed to be this way, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes.”

“Did Kravitz know?”

“No. Not until quite recently. I could not allow him onto your plane. He would have warned your family. Unnatural steps could have been taken.” She paused. “One might be able to stave off death for a short while, but it cannot be prevented forever. You would have sat at my table soon enough.”

She began writing something, and the papers she filled out vanished into dark smoke as she finished them. Someone knocked gently at the door, and she said firmly, “ _ Enter. _ ”

Kravitz came quietly into the room, giving Angus a nod before he approached the Raven Queen. “You’re still not allowing me to leave.”

“No.”

“There’s work to be done--”

“It can wait,” she said. “You’ll stay here with Angus.”

Kravitz went to her, and Angus wanted to look away as he fell at her feet, grasping at the endless folds of her dress. “ _ Mother _ ,” he begged. “ _ Please. _ ”

The Raven Queen reached out and stroked his cheek. Angus looked down into his tea cup.

“Love has made you frantic and impulsive. It is not unwelcome, but these are not characteristics I  _ need _ right now. I need you to be strong, and I need you to get up.” She spoke her last words firmly, and Kravitz obeyed. “Take Angus to the mirrors. I’ll join you shortly.” 

Kravitz took a steadying breath and nodded. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, and put a hand on Angus’s shoulder.

Angus paused. “...May I take the tea?”

The Raven Queen looked up and smiled. “Of course, my dear,” she said, before going back to her work.

 

* * *

 

Kravitz led him down a series of winding stairs until eventually they reached a very large silver door. He looked down at Angus and sighed. “I’m...sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to be.”

“I wanted to change her mind, I tried to convince her--”

“She doesn’t strike me as the kind of goddess who can be  _ convinced. _ ”

“No,” Kravitz said. “She’s not.” He reached out and pushed the door open wide, gesturing for Angus to step into the room. “This is the Hall of Mirrors. It’s...where a reaper is given their task, you could say.”

“She doesn’t decide?” Kravitz shook his head. “Oh.”

Angus set his cup of tea on the stone floor and started to walk along the hall. It was still strange, being here. He kept thinking of Taako, of Merle who’d tried so much. Of Magnus and Lucretia, who argued late into the night about how to take care of him, about what was even wrong with him. He wanted to see them so  _ much _ , to touch them and tell them he was okay, even if he was gone and far from them -- 

“Angus?” He turned to Kravitz. “I know you miss them. I know...I know this is hard. Trust me,” he said. “I’ve been here. Right in this spot, not knowing what my family is doing, or what they’re thinking. But this will pass, and you’ll...see them again.”

“When?”

“...I wish I could say.” Kravitz reached down and cupped Angus’s face in his hands. “I am  _ truly _ sorry. When I am free to go, if you cannot go with me, I will tell them you’re safe.”

Angus nodded. “Alright,” he said, and continued down the hall. 

Each of the mirrors were a little different, and they were constantly shifting. They turned from him, or vanished entirely. Angus assumed one would face him when it was time, but nothing seemed to want to settle on him. Kravitz told him it could take time, that he might need to pace this hall for a long while.

“It doesn’t always happen right away--”

As he spoke, one of the mirrors stopped shifting, and turned to show Angus his reflection. 

He looked...thinner. He’d been sick for quite some time. His dark skin was somehow pallid in the haunting light, but he was still  _ himself _ , which was the first relief he’d felt since the Raven Queen had taken him from his bed. 

Angus knew, somehow, exactly what to do. He reached out to touch the mirror and it rippled under his fingers, allowing him entrance. He glanced back at Kravitz, who nodded, before looking toward an uncertain future, and stepping inside. 

He was in a very large room, almost like a library, with a very large desk at the center. It was empty, save for a single raven, which perched on the edge of it and considered him for a moment, before it spread its wings and became the Raven Queen.

Seeing her was his second relief -- the sight of her pale face and endless cloak was comforting, and when she reached out to take his hand, Angus went to her without hesitation. 

He understood now why Kravitz called her  _ mother. _

“My chronicler,” she said quietly. “A fitting choice, considering your voracious appetite for learning in life.”

“Chronicler?”

“Yes,” she said, and led him toward one of the shelves. “This room is endless, darling. It holds the stories of the dead, which we must always know. The chronicler travels and writes the stories of the dead.”

“All...by myself?”

“No, no, of course not. There are many chroniclers,” she said. “It would be an impossible task for one reaper alone.” She reached out and pulled down a book. “This is the story of Magnus’s wife. Julia, was her name, wasn’t it?” Angus nodded. “Stories that were told of her, memories people have shared. She died suddenly, so her story is quite thin compared to others. Most of it is Magnus’s own telling.”

“He spoke with a chronicler?”

“He may have. Perhaps in a tavern one night, he connected with a stranger over a shared love of ale and soft music, a tune that reminded him of his love. Perhaps he relayed a memory, and someone overheard.” She closed the book and set it back. “You may gather this knowledge any way you see fit.”

“Is it...a secret?”

“To the skeptical, perhaps. Someone like Magnus would believe you. Someone else might not. You possess magic that is unique to you, now. You feel it, don’t you?” Angus nodded. “Good. You will complete your first task now. After, you will bring me the book, and if I am satisfied, I will allow you to cross over to the material plane with Kravitz, to say goodbye to your family.”

Angus looked at her. “Will I...will I never be able to see them?”

“Oh, you may. So long as your tasks are done, then you may cross over to the material plane as often as you’d like. But you will be very busy, my child. You will tell the stories of the dead. Kravitz knows this is important. And your family will understand, in time.”

“If they don’t?”

She smiled. “My darling, you are  _ so loved _ in your world. They will all understand eventually.”

 

* * *

 

When Angus returned from his first task, he passed the book to the Raven Queen with trembling hands, and awaited her verdict.

“It’s quite lovely,” she murmured. “And the binding is exquisite.”

“I ran into another chronicler,” he said. “She gave me a few tips.”

“I’m glad of it.” She stood and the book vanished into dark smoke. “It has been a week since your passing on the material plane--”

“ _ A week? _ ”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sure it felt...briefer, here. Time moves differently, especially when you are in the library. You will need to grow used to that.”

“A week,” he muttered as he felt her cool hands slide through his hair to trail down his neck before she brought him close. Angus closed his eyes. “How are they?” he asked.

“Distraught,” she said calmly.

Angus pulled away, burying his face in his hands. He screamed until he couldn’t scream anymore, until she came to him again and tried to comfort -- but he didn’t  _ want _ that.

“ _ How could you do this to them? _ ”

“It was not my decision.”

“Kravitz said you could  _ fix it _ .”

“I could, but it would not be proper.”

Angus scowled. “What does that  _ mean? _ ”

The Raven Queen sighed and perched on the edge of her desk. “Angus. You must understand, when you are born, your thread is of a certain length, a certain color, and a certain strength. When  _ you _ were born, your thread was thin and short, and it was black. It was mine.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Death has never argued that it is fair,” she said. “Death takes from us when we least expect it, just as often as it comes to us naturally. Your father will die a natural death, as will the rest of your family. I cannot affect this. I cannot  _ change _ this. Istus herself can do nothing about this--”

“But if the thread were switched--”

She sighed. “Imagine, if you will, that you pull the thread on a piece of fabric. You pull it completely out. What have you  _ done _ to the fabric, Angus?”

“...Changed it.”

“Precisely. And if you replace it with another, will it ever look the same?” He shook his head. “We could both alter your fate, it is not beyond our power to do so. But it would be forced, it would be unnatural. You might not be the same. The world around you could be different. The way people feel for you could shift. That is the consequence of altering the fabric of your fate.” She sighed. “I know you’re upset. I know you love them, and they love  _ you _ . I cannot change that. But you will see them, as often as you are allowed. And they will  _ love  _ you, Angus. 

“Death is not fair,” she said. “But it is most  _ certainly _ not the end.”

 

* * *

 

Kravitz looked down at Angus and smiled. “Are you ready?”

“...I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“What they’ll think of me,” he said. “And of you.”

“I can’t change what happened. She...she made the right choice. I was angry, I was impulsive, I could have done something that couldn’t be taken back.” He sighed. “I’m  _ sad _ ,” he said, “that you’re not going to live your life with Magnus, and that he won’t get to see you grow up. But I am glad to be...be your brother, of sorts, in all this. I will look after you as best as I can, Angus. I swear it.”

Angus hugged him, and Kravitz wished, for just a moment, to have a beating heart again.

“Alright,” Angus said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Let’s...let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

It...was  _ hard. _

Magnus was beyond recovery for hours, but Angus finally managed to get to him, to bring him out of his stupor and tell him the story, from start to finish. 

Everyone downstairs pointedly ignored the screaming matching going on between Taako and Kravitz on the floor above. It was ugly, and it was nearly an hour before they both came down, clutching one another. Taako went to Angus and embraced him, and Merle and Lucretia and Davenport were there, too. 

Lup and Barry got the story as well, and held Angus tight. 

He could feel their pain -- all of it. It was  _ breathing _ and it was  _ alive _ . He wished for a moment that he hadn’t come back at all, that he’d left them to their lives. But, no. No, he needed to see them. Even if it...hurt  _ more _ , somehow. He needed it. 

They all needed it.

There was more fighting, more confusion. Angus did not want to see the place where he’d been buried, it frightened him. Kravitz said he’d be at peace with it in time. 

In the midst of it all, Taako embraced Lucretia for the first time in three years, and they went into a corner to talk, hands clasped together as they sorted through years of guilt and upset and anger. 

Apologies were made, trespasses were forgiven.

Angus didn’t like to consider his death a catalyst for so much change, but it was nice to be with his family, and know they would be alright.

Eventually, he felt a soft tug, and looked to Kravitz. 

“You have work to do,” he said, and bent down to kiss the top of Angus’s head. “Go on.”

Magnus looked up. “Go?”

Angus nodded. “I...have to do something.”

“But you...you just came back. I haven’t heard your voice in a week and you just--”

Angus could have said a lot. He could have apologized again and again, but it would have been useless. Instead he acted -- he pulled Magnus to him, hefted himself into large, warm arms, and held on for dear life.

Magnus opened his mouth to speak, but he could only cry, and Angus could only hold him until the tug became more insistent, and he needed to leave.

“I’ll be back,” he said. “As soon as I can.  _ Whenever  _ I can.”

Magnus nodded. “This is your home.”

“I know.”

“Okay. As long as...as you  _ remember _ that.” Magnus kissed his forehead. “Go on then,” he said, and stood. “We’ll be here whenever you come back.”

 

* * *

 

In the years that passed, Angus allowed himself the luxury of appearing to age. It did something for Magnus, like a reminder that maybe Angus could eventually die and move on again, as well, though they both knew this couldn’t happen. 

Magnus aged, though it was less a luxury and more of a requirement. He told Angus stories of Julia as the years went by, to fill the book that Angus kept on his desk in the chronicler’s library. He collected lots of stories, as the years went on. 

And then, one day, the list he kept with stories he’d need to gather grew by one.

“Is it his time already?” he wondered, watching the Raven Queen weave the black threads she gave to Istus. 

“It seems rather quick to you, doesn’t it?” Angus nodded. “It will be difficult for you, I’m sure. But the task is yours. You can give it to someone else if you’d like--”

“No,” he said quickly. “I want to do it. I...I  _ have _ to do it.”

She nodded. “Understandable.” When the threads were wound, she placed them in a gold bag, and they disappeared. “You will say goodbye properly, won’t you?” Angus nodded. “That’s good. It won’t be long,” she added. “A few days at most. I’ll let you have that, if it’s what you’d like.”

“I would.”

“Then it is done. Go to him. Kravitz will be the one to take him when it is time.” She reached for him and he took her hand. “And you will be the one to hear his story.”

Angus nodded. 

Saying goodbye to Magnus was easier than he expected -- Magnus was  _ ready _ to die. He wasn’t afraid, and he wasn’t angry. He moved through his final days with relative ease, telling Angus stories and memories. 

On his last evening, Angus stepped out of the room to orient himself, and felt a warm hand incircle his wrist. 

“Hey, Taako.”

“Hey, Ango.” They stood like that for a moment, before Angus pulled him in and let Taako take ragged, desperate breaths against his shoulder.

“It’s okay…”

“I know. I just…”

Angus held him close. “Would it make you feel better if I told you he’s going to see her on the other side?”

Taako pulled back. “He will?” Angus nodded. “That’s...that’s good, yeah.” He let go and waved a hand over his face, cleaning up the snot and tears. “I mean it’s whatever, you know. He can do what he wants, if he’s going to insist on  _ dying. _ ”

“Humans do that.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Angus reached out and gave Taako’s hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t be afraid,” he said.

Taako nodded. “...Okay. Okay, I won’t be.” He turned and went down the hall toward his room.

It was the last Angus saw of him before they gathered around Magnus’s bed, and watched him take his final breath.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Angus’s shelves were full of the stories of the old Starblaster crew. Even the Bureau got theirs -- Avi’s and Carey’s and Killian’s sat right alongside Magnus’s and Lucretia’s. Davenport and Merle got theirs, too. 

As the years went on, Taako’s name appeared at the bottom of his list, and Angus collected his stories as well. 

There was one though that he’d never looked in, one he’d never asked about. 

Angus’s own book was hidden away on a different shelf. It was small and thin, the chronicle of a life cut short. No one knew whose job it had been to collect that particular story, so Angus set out to do it himself, though there was no one left alive on the material plane who remembered him. It didn’t make him sad -- he’d been dead for several hundred years, and that was how dying really worked -- 

You died once, when your soul left your body.

And then you died again, when someone said your name one final time. 

Angus didn’t know when his second death came, but he had a chance now to remember himself. To collect stories from his past and place them all in one place

So he went to his family, and he filled his book. 

And then he brought it to the Raven Queen.

“What is this for?” she asked.

Angus shrugged. “I just...wanted you to see it.”

She ran her hands over the binding, and the plain, silver letters on the cover. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I think it might be your best work.”

“I appreciate that.” Angus sat across from her. 

She sighed. “Your time to move on has not quite come, my love.”

“I know this.”

“But you...you have proven yourself time and time again.” She smiled and handed the book back. “When Kravitz moves on, I would like you to take his place,” she said.

Angus raised a brow. “He’s...moving on?”

“Yes. All reapers do. In time.”

“A cycle,” Angus murmured. She nodded. “And you want me to...take over for Kravitz.”

“Yes.”

“Someone else will do my work.”

“That has always been the case, my love. Of course, if you don’t wish to take this job, then I can leave you to your current duties, and you may move on from there. But...I think you are uniquely suited to do this.”

Angus nodded. “If it’s what you wish, then it’s what I wish as well.”

The Raven Queen smiled. “I could ask for no better sons and daughters as the ones I have been given,” she said, and reached to take his hand.

 

* * *

 

And when Angus moved on, he drifted from one place in the astral plane to the next, until he felt the familiar pull of his family. It drew him in, lifted him up, and he fell into their arms, as they were always meant to be, held tight by their embraces, gripped by their hands and fingers, loved by their voices. 

He remembered something, not long after, that the Raven Queen had said. 

_ Death is not fair. _

_ But it is most certainly not the end. _

With his family at last, Angus smiled. She’d been right about it all, in the end.

She’d been right all along. 

**Author's Note:**

> title and lyrics from "florets" by grace vanderwaal


End file.
